First Time Offender
by Kikume
Summary: Sakura wants to do everything she's never tried - and if one of those things happens to be a lazy genius with too much time on his hands, well, at least it'll give Ino something to talk about. A (discontinued) chronology of Sakura's 'firsts' during the time skip.
1. A Fake Date

**First Time Offender** - a chronology of Sakura's 'firsts' during the 2.5 year time skip

Chapter 1: A (Fake) Date

* * *

"I'm fat."

"So?" Sakura let out a yawn that, while satisfying, was rather lacking in tact.

"You're not even looking!"

It was true. Sakura might have been interested, or at least amused, if there had been any validity to Ino's complaints, but she highly doubted her friend's slim figure had altered dramatically in the past five minutes.

"Sakura."

Sakura forced her eyes away from the medical scrolls she was thumbing through. And abruptly burst into a fit of giggles that would have done any academy level kunoichi proud.

"What are you wearing?" Or, more accurately, not wearing.

A scowl twisted Ino's features as she adjusted the ill-fitting scrap of fabric pasted over her chest. The skirt stretched over her butt was experiencing similar difficulties, though Sakura wisely refrained from commenting.

"See? I'm a complete pig." Ino gestured to her perfectly flat stomach as if to emphasize her point. "_Your _clothes don't even fit me."

Ouch. Sakura rolled her eyes at the implied insult, mollified by the knowledge that Ino was experiencing a crisis of epic proportions. Her proportions, to be exact.

"It was bound to happen eventually," Sakura pointed out mildly, grinning behind the cream-coloured parchment concealing her expression. "You, ahem,_ growing_ into your name, I mean."

"Very funny." Ino's bottom lip wobbled in a rare concession of sincere anxiety, although she tried to hide it by flipping her long ponytail of blonde hair over her shoulder.

Ino couldn't be seriously concerned. Could she? Just in case, Sakura stifled an exasperated sigh. "You're not fat." There. That was concise, truthful, and difficult to misunderstand. "Unfortunately," she tacked on as an afterthought.

When the blonde continued to look skeptical (and a little sad, what with her smushed ensemble), Sakura decided pictorial evidence was in order.

"See this?" With a huff that was perhaps a little too exaggerated than standing from a chair warranted, Sakura snatched a frame from her dresser. Ino nodded, brow furrowing in a get-to-the-point sort of way that was much more familiar than the wobbling lip.

"It's me and you, right?"

"Funny _and _smart. Konoha really lucked out with you, didn't they?"

"Shut up." If Ino was being sarcastic, the situation couldn't be_ that_ dire. Still: "The point is that you" – Sakura tapped the grinning blonde girl in the picture – "are curvy, whereas I"– her finger drifted over to rest on a 2-dimensional, pink-haired figure – "have a build that's more…athletic." _Flat._ "Of course my clothes are going to be a bit tight on you; I mean, pig is debatable, but you're not an elephant. Yet, anyway."

There was a dangerous glint in Ino's eye when she flounced away to Sakura's closet to change. "So the problem isn't that I'm too fat, it's that you have no boobs and a tiny ass."

_I wouldn't have put it quite like that, but_…"Sure, Ino, whatever."

Truthfully, Sakura was just happy to have eluded a potential Ino meltdown. Now that she thought about it, the blonde had been acting weird all day: messing with her hair constantly, fiddling, insisting they ransack Sakura's (pitifully lacklustre) closet. Curiosity piqued, Sakura abandoned the anatomy diagram she'd been about to resume studying.

"Why the sudden attack of insecurity?"

"No reason." Ino's voice was just a little too coy to assuage Sakura's suspicions.

"Uh-huh." Sakura leaped from her chair and flung open the closet door in one fluid motion. "Spill."

"Do you mind?" Ino snapped. "I'm naked." That wasn't precisely accurate, but Sakura refused to be distracted by the fact that a bra and spandex shorts didn't constitute nudity.

"Is it a boy?"

"None of your business," Ino said, the smug smile in her voice revealing more than the words themselves.

Sakura grinned as she leaned her shoulder against the door jam. She wasn't worried; Ino might make people work for the information, but she was a notorious gossip.

A few more moments of heavy silence and she cracked like a twig. "Okay, fine. But only if you do me one itty-bitty favour."

_Oh no. _Knowing she would regret it later, Sakura asked, "And that would be…?"

"Nope." Ino waggled her finger, smirking. "Sorry, forehead, that's part of the deal. I'll tell you about my mystery man, but you can't know what the favour is until you've agreed to do it."

"That's ridiculous. We're fifteen, not five; just tell me what it is."

Ino mimicked zipping up her mouth and throwing away the key.

"Ugh." Sakura made a noise halfway between a snort and a growl before grumbling her agreement.

"Don't laugh, but..." Ino's cheeks puffed as if the 'secret' was forcing itself out of her. "I've got a date with Chōji."

"Chōji?" Sakura blinked. That, she had not been expecting.

"What?" Ino demanded, crossing her arms in a manner that mirrored the defensive tone of her voice. "Chōji's nice."

"He is nice," Sakura agreed. She'd just never thought 'niceness' was the quality Ino most looked for in a prospective boyfriend. "But…what about Sasuke-kun?"

"What about him?" Ino rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to save myself for him like some wilting virgin."

A smirk worked its way over Sakura's mild smile despite her best intentions. "It's about time you conceded defeat."

"Not even close, forehead." Ino stuck her tongue out before turning to rifle through the heap of clothes she'd displaced. "But there's no reason I can't get in a little practice while he's gone."

_Practice, huh? _Having anticipated such a response, Sakura snorted. "When does this 'practice' start?"

Ino shrugged as if this information wasn't really important. "Chōji should be here in" – she paused to glance at the clock beside Sakura's desk – "half-an-hour. Oh my God. I only have thirty minutes to make myself gorgeous!"

Ino whirled out of the closet, still only half-dressed, in a flurry of clothes and a high heel that seemed determined to brain Sakura in the head.

"Don't mind me," Sakura mumbled. Then, louder, "Who instigated this whole thing?" It was the most delicate way she could think of to ask, 'How the hell did this happen?'

"No time for questions, I'm concentrating." On applying eyeliner, Sakura deduced upon quickly peeking in the bathroom.

"I just can't see Chōji asking a girl out, is all. Wasn't it awkward?"

"Not at all," Ino said hurriedly. "It was romantic and wonderful, okay? Now scram – I've got to find an outfit that'll fit over my gigantic ass."

So much for the quick recovery of Ino's self-esteem. Sakura eyed the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor dubiously. "Good luck," she said as the door was slammed in her face.

Only when the doorbell rang did Sakura think to wonder why Ino hadn't gotten Chōji to pick her up at the Yamanaka residence. Or what the 'itty-bitty favour' was and why Ino had conspicuously neglected to elaborate on what it entailed.

"Can you answer the door?" Ino called from the bathroom, voice a little frantic. "Please."

"I guess."

Sakura stretched, the joints in her neck popping, as she descended the stairs. She half-expected to see Chōji dressed in a suit and toting a bouquet of red roses or something equally ridiculous when she opened the door. With mild disappointment, she registered that he was wearing his usual gear, complete with the armour characteristic of the Akimichi clan. A crinkled bag of barbeque chips seemed to be his only adornment, which hardly seemed romantic.

"Hey, Chōji," she greeted politely. "Ino's upstairs."

"Hi, Sakura. I like your pyjamas." He would. The top half featured an ever-so-fashionable motif of rice balls.

"Sakura."

"Um." Sakura peered around Chōji at his seeming echo, a shadowed figure she hadn't immediately noticed. "Shikamaru? What are you doing here?"

"Same thing as you, I imagine." The lazy genius's drawl was not the least bit informative.

"Studying for a medical examination?"

"Not quite." Shikamaru directed his eyes skyward, as if seeking divine intervention, as he said, "Ino –"

"Is here!" As if summoned, the blond appeared behind Sakura's shoulder, radiant in a lilac dress Sakura's mother had bought on a whim. It had always been a little loose on Sakura, but Ino certainly filled it out. "How do I look, Chōji?" she purred, shooting Shikamaru a _shut-up_ look out of the corner of her eye.

"Er, you look…nice." Nice. There was that word again. "Want a chip?" Ino didn't – or chose not to – notice her date's lack of articulation as she barrelled forward and linked their arms. To his credit, a touch of colour tinged Chōji's cheeks and he seemed to have a difficult time swallowing the mouthful he'd been chewing.

Sakura quirked an eyebrow at Shikamaru, who was watching this exchange with what appeared to be a mixture of irritation and resigned amusement. "Are you supposed to be their chaperone or something?"

Obviously anticipating an interruption, Shikamaru slanted his drooping eyes in Ino's direction.

"Don't be silly, Sakura," Ino began in a voice that was far too sugary-sweet not to have unfavourable consequences. "You were just saying how lonely you were without a team to spend time with."

"I was?"

"Sure." The beseeching look in Ino's eyes might have been more convincing if she hadn't been mouthing the word _favour_. "It'll be like a double-date or something."

Whoa. Sakura's intuition twitched in a way that wasn't altogether pleasant.

"I'm not even dressed," she said slowly, waffling for time as she decided on the best way to handle this particular situation.

"You look great," Ino insisted.

_Right. The situation must be serious if Ino's resorted to compliments._

"You look fine, Sakura," Shikamaru said without enthusiasm. "Let's just get this over with before Ino dies from hyperventilation."

With flattery like that, how could a girl refuse? Relatively easily, Sakura found, but just as she opened her mouth to decline as politely as possible, Ino grabbed her arm in a grip that brought to mind five well-manicured senbon needles cutting into her flesh.

"I forgot something inside," she said, disentangling herself from Chōji. "Come help me look, Sakura?" Not a question, regardless of intonation.

"Double-date?" Sakura exclaimed once she'd been hauled up to her room.

"You owe me one favour _of my choosing_, and this is it." Ino sighed exasperatedly. "Can't you just come out with us and not be difficult?"

Apparently not. "I thought I'd have to take your shift at the flower shop or something. Not – this! Why didn't you just tell me beforehand?"

Belatedly, it occurred to Sakura that she was making a bigger deal of the situation than was really necessary, but she shoved the thought aside.

Ino flopped gracefully onto Sakura's bed, frowning at the ceiling. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to say this…but, ugh, here goes: you need to have some fun," she declared, before letting out a huff of sound that was almost wistful. "Naruto's been gone for more than two years now, and who knows what Sasuke-kun's doing. I'm not saying you should give up on them coming home, obviously – but I don't see why you can't experiment a little, and, I don't know, have some adventures of your own, while they're away."

Sakura was just starting to feel a twinge of something, irritation at her friend butting into her life, maybe, or possibly even a nostalgic sort of sentimentality that she cared enough to do so, when Ino ruined it by adding, "You're lack of normal teenage behaviour is becoming pathetic, forehead, seriously."

"I have adventures," Sakura muttered defensively, heart stuttering at the mention of her absentee teammates.

"Yeah. In the hospital. On missions. The adventures I'm talking about are more likely to occur…" Ino trailed off, but her implication was made clear by the hand she swept out to indicate Sakura's bedroom.

"You're not implying I should 'experiment' with –" Sakura nearly choked on the name – "Shikamaru?"

The look of disgust on Ino's face was almost comical. "No, ew, of course not. Shikamaru wouldn't notice a girl unless she had a Shogi set strapped to her boobs. He's just, er, a means to an end."

"Okay." That was a bit extreme, but Sakura was nonetheless relieved. "Who, then? I'm not just going to walk up to a random civilian and ask him to be my sex slave."

"Sakura!" The scandalized note in Ino's voice was highly exaggerated, as was her smirk. "I didn't say anything about sex."

Sakura rolled her eyes at this. "I was just kidding."

And she had been. Mostly. It wasn't that the idea of waiting for Sasuke wasn't appealing, and she'd always be in love with him. Still, there was no reason, as Ino said, that she couldn't have a little fun before dedicating herself to attaining what – and who – she'd always imagined as her future.

As for how much 'fun' she was willing to have…that remained to be seen.

"Are you sure you're not just nervous about being alone with Chōji?"

Ino flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Me, nervous? I don't think so. But Shikamaru's got that nerdy slacker thing going on. Are sure you'll be able to restrain yourself?"

Sakura decided Ino had diverted the attention from herself just a little too fast. And was that a blush? Surely not. "I'll do my best."

"So you'll come? Good; I knew you would." _Right. _

"So," Sakura said, grabbing a jacket from her closet. The embarrassment of going out with messy hair and wearing food-embellished pyjamas would be quite enough without freezing to death. "Where are we going?"

* * *

As it turned out, Ino had planned out almost every detail of the evening, right down to the seating arrangements. Sakura was already feeling ridiculously underdressed at the more high-end restaurant they'd been dragged to, and having to practically perch on Shikamaru's lap wasn't helping. Sure, Ino looked happy about the inevitable results of procuring the tiniest booth in the place, but her human seat, while not looking particularly comfortable, wasn't making every attempt to wiggle away from her.

"Will you stop squirming," Sakura snapped quietly as she nearly toppled onto the floor.

"I'm not _trying _to."

"Then don't do it!"

"Ugh," Shikamaru sighed. "You're such a girl."

"And you're knees are knobby and uncomfortable, but do you see me complaining?"

"Yes."

"…I hate Ino-pig."

"Hm?" The blonde in question seemed eerily attuned to the sound of her own name, as she'd completely ignored their hushed argument before she'd been mentioned. "Have you guys made up your mind about food yet?"

"Do they serve anko dumplings?" Sakura asked, having been too distracted to even glance at her menu.

"Probably. But I was thinking – this place isn't cheap, so why don't we split two meals between the four of us?"

The more she considered it, the more sense Ino and Chōji seemed to make as a couple. Of course, their dynamic was a little strange, but Ino would never stray from her ubiquitous diets with Chōji around to eat all the foods she deemed too fattening. Maybe, eventually, he could even convince her to give up on dieting altogether.

"Sounds good," Sakura agreed, after a firm kick to her shin courtesy of Ino's high heel indicated her concurrence was mandatory. "What do you want, Shikamaru?"

"To be at home sleeping. But food-wise? I don't care; order whatever you want."

Sakura rolled her eyes. _Typical. _How had Ino even convinced him to act as a (not particularly successful) accomplice in her ploy?

"You're a sucky date, you know that," she informed Shikamaru just a bit sullenly.

"How do you figure?" he said without sounding particularly insulted. "I held the door open for you, didn't complain when you sat on me, which, admittedly, wasn't your choice, and I'm going to pay for the meal."

"You are?"

Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck as if this exchange was taxing his conversational skills. "Yeah."

"Oh. Okay then." Somewhat placated, Sakura asked, "What do you want to drink?"

"Not necessary," Ino interjected smoothly. "Drinks are taken care of."

"Really." Sakura quirked an eyebrow at Ino's devilish grin.

"Yup." With a flirtatious lowering of her eyelashes in Chōji's direction, the blonde produced a highly suspicious-looking flask from some unknown crevice in her skin-tight dress.

_You've got be kidding me._ "You brought alcohol?"

"Yup. And lucky for you, I'm willing to share," Ino said, before swallowing a generous amount of whatever illegal beverage was in that so-subtle flask. She offered it to Sakura next, whose attempts to fend off her friend's outstretched arm were about as discreet as the silver container from which she was attempting to avert her eyes.

"Quit it, Ino," she hissed, glancing around to see if they'd been noticed. They hadn't. "You know we're underage, and more importantly, I have a med test tomorrow. Tsunade-shishou would _kill_ me!"

"Bo-_ring_." Ino's gaze was sharp even as she rolled her eyes. "So we're allowed to risk our lives on missions, but we can't get drunk? That's ridiculous! Chōji, Shikamaru, how 'bout you guys?"

Chōji accepted Ino's offering without much need for persuasion; honestly, he seemed a bit overwhelmed by the whole date situation, but still…wasn't it dangerous to guzzle that fast? As a medic, Sakura had to conclude that it certainly couldn't be healthy. Then again, the pace with which he'd been inhaling the chips he had insisted on bringing had increased in tandem with Ino's flirtation, so maybe a calming drink was exactly what he needed. Anyway. Shikamaru, who Sakura fully expected to decline with his usual slouching disinterest, accepted his turn casually.

"I didn't figure you were much of a drinker," she said, curious more than anything else. Shikamaru could be annoying, but in the past his intelligence had – when he bothered to participate – made for interesting conversation, and, as far as she was aware, he'd never been unable to justify his actions.

"I'm not. But Ino has a point." Shikamaru shrugged, punctuating his comment with a swig from the proffered flask. "Maturity, regardless of age, is a matter of survival for shinobi, and they experience things that normal civilians can't imagine or relate to; it makes no sense to apply the same age restrictions to both."

"So by drinking you're sort of protesting an unreasonable policy?"

"Ugh, forehead." Ino's head fell back on Chōji's shoulder with a light thwap, whose round cheeks coloured in a way that was almost…cute. "Only you could turn the consumption of perfectly unauthorized sake into something nerdy."

Shikamaru smirked, ignoring his teammate's eloquent input on the matter. "Protesting? Sure. But mostly I'm just trying to drown out Ino's chatter."

Sakura giggled despite herself, and, perhaps against her better judgement, snatched the seemingly bottomless flask from the dark-haired slacker. "What?" she demanded, blushing when Shikamaru eyed her warily. "I'm protesting the unfair prohibition of certain mind-altering substances."

"Nerdy," Ino chimed in.

Sakura couldn't really disagree, so she settled for another sip of sake. Although Tsunade-shishou swore by the stuff, Sakura had never seen the allure. The taste was sharp and choke-inducing at first, but the more Sakura imbibed, the more palatable it became. It wasn't long before the night drifted beyond her control, hazy and laughter-filled.

* * *

They were stumbling home when it happened. Sakura couldn't have said who instigated it. One moment they were upright and half-leaning on each other, and the next they just sort of fell together, their lips meeting as if by mutual accord.

There was no moment of uncertainty or we-shouldn't-be-doing-this unease. The clarity of sobriety was a distant memory. A bit dizzy, Sakura peeked her eyes open. All she could see were dark, shadowed eyelids, the curving bridge of someone's nose, and a glint of steel out of the corner of her hazy vision: a silver stud earring. Warm breath tickled her tongue and she inhaled the feeling of wind-roughened lips moving almost carelessly over hers. In a very offhand way, she became aware of a calloused hand at her waist, just under the hem of her pyjama shirt. Another twined in her hair.

Her body tingled with unfamiliar sensitivity as the hand caressing her stomach drifted upwards, barely ghosting over her ribcage before trailing around to her back. Hard stone dug into her shoulders, supporting her when she might have fallen. A low, muffled word was swallowed by her mouth, followed shortly thereafter by a rush of cold air, and a gasp, her gasp this time, as something tickled her neck. Lips, hot breath, a hint of teeth. She giggled at the sensation on her flushed skin, fingers curling around biceps that tightened under the light pressure. Then…

"…Sasuke." There was that word again, audible now that it was being murmured against her collarbone.

"Wrong name," Sakura huffed, leaning her head back in a futile attempt to equate physical distance with emotional detachment. What was she doing?

Shikamaru's lips stilled as he drooped so that his forehead was resting in the crook of her neck. His breath, slightly irregular, hit her like kunai just above the edge of her shirt.

"Sakura –"

"That's the one," Sakura interjected.

"You love Sasuke, right?" His voice was quiet, but the words themselves more than made up for what they lacked in volume.

"Of course." The response was oddly automatic.

Sakura couldn't read the expression on Shikamaru's face as he said, "I don't love you."

"Okaaay. Um. I don't love you either?" Where was he going with this?

"We're both…not really thinking straight." That was putting it mildly.

"Thanks to Ino." And her magically limitless supply of super-sake. And the fact that Sakura refused to be beaten by her sometimes rival, regardless of the competition.

"Thanks to Ino," Shikamaru agreed. "So do you honestly think…that…was a good idea?"

It had _felt_ like a good idea, at least at the not-so-long-ago time. Thinking only of hiding her expression, Sakura buried her head in the shoulder of Shikamaru's chūnin vest.

"No wonder you're a virgin," she mumbled, not altogether happily, into the hollow of his neck. It was something she never would have _considered _saying had she been in her right mind, but now it just sort of rolled off her tongue. There was also a distinct possibility that her words were slurred nearly beyond comprehensibility, but she couldn't seem to find the energy to care. "Do you have to analyze everything?" _Isn't that my_ _job, anyway?_

"Who said I was a virgin?"

Even with her mind buzzing like a hive full of pissed-off bees, that got Sakura's attention. "You're not?"

Now that she was actually _looking_, Shikamaru wasn't really unattractive. The thought of a girl liking him romantically was weird, but not unimaginable. He was no Sasuke-kun, of course, but there _was _an odd sort of appeal to the casual droop of his eyes, a contemplative quality to his frown that could be endearing…

Shikamaru shrugged, an awkward motion with her leaning on his upper body. "Girls are troublesome."

Okay. Certain aspects of his vocabulary could use broadening. "That's not an answer."

If she strained, Sakura could just make out the hint of a smirk on his night-darkened features. That was all the answer she got.

Of course, he might simply have been gearing up for some significant, slightly alcohol-induced secret-confessing. Sakura would never know, considering her stomach chose that moment to jump into her throat, doubling her over in a sickening prelude to vomiting.

He should have dodged; he could have, she was sure. Then again, it was entirely possible that alcohol-consumption had addled his shinobi reflexes as much as it appeared to have affected hers.

Whatever.

It wasn't _her _shirt covered in unmentionable goo.

Next thing she knew, her body was airborne and moving, a not altogether comfortable sensation that evoked the unappealing prospect of a repeat performance, throw-up-wise.

"Shikamaru," she said, almost whining. "Put me down."

"I'd love to."

Sakura waited to be dropped unceremoniously on the pavement, relaxing only when Shikamaru tightened his hold on the back of her knees and started walking. Being slung over Shikamaru's shoulder might not have been an improvement on perching on his lap, she found, but it did offer a lovely view of the alley by her house.

That's right – her house. The details were a bit fuzzy, but Sakura distinctly remembered Ino making up some bogus excuse about her and Chōji needing to pick something up at the training grounds after they'd left the restaurant. It would have been hard to forget the blonde's smirk as she'd said, in a guileless tone that belied both her intentions and her state of inebriation, "Have fun, kids."

Which had left the other half of their 'spontaneous' double-date to stumble home in each other's company. And then…well…

With a disconnected sense of honesty, Sakura wished Shikamaru hadn't brought up Sasuke-kun. Then again, it was probably a good thing he had. But on the other hand…

"Shikamaru," she began, nervous hands toying with the zipper on his vest. "Do you want to come in?"

* * *

_A/N: Oh, Shikamaru, such a tease..._


	2. A Sober Kiss

**Chapter 2: A (Sober) Kiss**

* * *

Never. Never again.

Her mind blurry and thick with fatigue, Sakura stumbled awake with one clear, decisive thought: she was never going to drink again. Her tongue felt grainy, her head heavy, and – perhaps worst of all – she didn't even have the luxury of having forgotten the events, and the corresponding embarrassment, of the night before; resolving to repress those unsavoury memories for the time being, she focused on assessing her current state of dreariness.

The light filtering through her blinds – which were very appropriately named, she reflected mournfully – sent flashes of pain skittering through her brain. Never mind the state of her stomach. She clutched at her bed covers and let out a low groan. This was what she'd been missing – a hangover that sapped her energy more effectively than the harshest of training sessions?

A morning person by nature, Sakura marvelled glumly at her inability to function. Sluggishness pulled at her limbs as she lurched from her bed and into the bathroom across the hall. Typical morning sounds, the happy clamour of breakfast being made and her parents' cheery voices, were an irritating reminder that they'd certainly be wanting an explanation for her absence last night, kunoichi or not. She washed up mechanically before pulling on the plain t-shirt and navy skirt she'd taken to wearing when not on missions. She layered her usual bright red vest over the shirt, ran a comb through her damp hair, and pulled on boots.

She pointedly avoided the mirror, pausing only to shove a sizable dollop of toothpaste straight into her mouth. As she bypassed her desk, she happened to glance at a haphazard pile of rolled-up parchment and medical journals.

_No…_

A sickening sense of horror overcame any physical discomfort she was currently experiencing. She couldn't have been so stupid. Could she? She was supposed to be the smart one! The punctual one!

Not the one who fails an important medical exam because she let her friends talk her into drinking and _slept in_. Quelling the panic that tried to rise up in the form of nausea, Sakura slipped silently out her bedroom window, chakra-laced feet barely skimming the ground before she was dashing off in the direction of the hospital. She was so dead. So, so dead.

* * *

Sakura's chin wobbled against the tops of her knees, her breath ghosting over her skin in a depressed sigh. She'd drawn her legs up to her chest, feet resting on the wooden edge of a familiar bench. It wasn't especially unusual for her to seek out this particular perch, though she'd found herself coming less and less as her training schedule intensified. Lately, she did so only when her mood drifted to its most nostalgic.

Now, it was more a faint sense of discouragement that had drawn her to the place. Her grogginess and failure to concentrate had resulted in an all-around dismal performance at the hospital that had certainly not made up for her being over an hour late. Worse, Tsunade-shishou hadn't punished her apart from a brief admonishing and a brusque dismissal. With a slight frown, her mentor had mentioned only that she was _disappointed_ in Sakura's performance.

Which, of course, was a hundred times worse.

Her only consolation was that Shizune had taken pity on her, offering Sakura a dose of her supposed hangover cure.

"Tsunade-sama swears by it," Shizune had explained with a sympathetic smile.

The black, sludgy liquid might have tasted bitterer than Sakura's breath that morning, but it eased the pounding in her head more effectively than any medical jutsu she knew.

"Hey."

Sakura's narrowed eyes peeked over the barrier of her hand as she lifted it to shield the glare of the midday sun.

"Shikamaru, hi." Just the person she'd wanted to see. Not.

Shikamaru quirked a brow at her lack of enthusiasm. His hands were casually ensconced in the pockets of his black pants, his feet shuffling with what might have been unease.

"Tough day?"

"Yeah." Sakura wasn't in the mood to elaborate on that morning's failure. "I could use some distracting," she added hopefully.

"I was just on my way home actually."

"I thought you were teaching at the academy today?"

"I was. Just finished up," Shikamaru explained shortly.

An awkward lull in their conversation, if it could even be called that, ensued, in which Sakura uncurled her legs and cleared her throat, and Shikamaru dug his hands deeper into his pockets.

"So," Sakura began, at the exact moment that Shikamaru said, "So."

Awkward.

After they made a half-hearted attempt at the obligatory nervous laughter that always seemed to follow such occurrences, Sakura stood with forced nonchalance.

"I think I'll just go home and study," she decided, stretching to hide her nervousness.

She lifted a hand, as if to wave goodbye, before realizing that they lived in the same direction. _Well…shit._

"I'll walk with you," Shikamaru offered with a resigned sigh.

_Such chivalry_, Sakura thought sarcastically. As they trudged along, Shikamaru's face seemed to become permanently etched into a semi-neutral scowl, while Sakura's gaze darted to glance at everything but her companion. She appeared inordinately interested in the dango shops, training grounds, and libraries they passed by, staring at each building as if she hadn't traipsed by them almost every day of her post-genin life. Though she and Shikamaru walked side-by-side, not even their arms brushed as they carefully maintained a so-casual-it-was-conspicuous distance from each other. It was inevitable that one of them would have to bring up the subject they were tiptoeing around.

"Look, Sakura, about last night…" Shikamaru trailed off with shrug, perhaps hoping she would elaborate for him.

"What about it?"

"Uh, you know…"

Sakura bit her bottom lip and worried her brows in a slight frown. The performance was perhaps a bit contrived, but she'd expected to have more time to practise it before seeing Shikamaru again. "Oh, no. I didn't do anything really embarrassing, did I?"

Shikamaru paused, assessing her. "…You can't remember?"

"Not a thing," Sakura replied with a forced chuckle. "I think that'll be the last time I try to 'protest unlawful inhibitions.'"

"Right." Shikamaru eyed her in a calculating way that suggested he knew she was lying. Sakura hadn't really expected the smartest person in Konoha to be fooled by her convenient memory lapse. The way she figured it, her 'forgetting' would allow both of them to silently acknowledge their mistake without further damaging what had been a nice, if impersonal, acquaintanceship. And as she'd guessed, Shikamaru didn't press the matter. He was probably as embarrassed about the whole thing as she was.

"Well…I'll see you later," Sakura said with a tight smile. They'd arrived at her house, and she was all too conscious of the nearby alley where…certain events had occurred.

"Yeah, see ya." Shikamaru lifted a hand in casual farewell.

Sakura paused at her doorway, watching as Shikamaru vanished around a corner. She had no intention of actually going inside her house, seeing as doing so would likely result in a drawn-out lecture from her parents.

She also couldn't return to the hospital after scuttling out of there with her head hung low in shame. As this whole situation was Ino's fault – or so she told herself – she decided to go harass her friend at work. The flower shop was nearby, nestled in a quiet shopping district, but Sakura's disheartened plodding made the walk seem longer. Heat beat down on her shoulders. The cloudless sky was a clear, shining blue that reminded Sakura disconcertingly of Naruto's eyes. She usually revelled in days like this, but somehow, with her mood so glum, the beautiful weather seemed to be the world's way of personally tormenting her.

Sakura was skirting around an incongruously-placed pornography store when a familiar shock of silvery hair caught her attention. The green flak jacket and navy blue hitai-ate held her interest, but it was the glimpse of a mask-clad chin that confirmed the man's identity.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura jogged to catch up to his retreating back, her tiredness relegated to the back of her mind.

"Yo," Kakashi mumbled without glancing away from – Sakura glanced at the cover – _Icha Icha Violence_. Of course. For all the familiarity in his tone, Sakura might have been a nosy neighbour rather than a favoured student.

"Sensei!"

"Yes, Sakura?" Well, he'd recognized her at least. That was a start.

Kakashi peeled his attention away from his dirty book with a small eye crease that might've indicated a smile but could just as easily have been a sign of irritation. Sakura chose to assume it was the former.

"You could at least say hello," she said, trying not to sound like a petulant child. "I haven't seen you in forever."

'Forever' was actually a month ago, when Kakashi had been forced to visit the hospital after sustaining nerve damage caused by excessive use of his sharingan. Whatever training he was doing – and he'd refused to tell her the specifics, despite insistent prodding and even pleading – it seemed to be both dangerous and time-consuming.

Apart from that short interaction, they'd hardly seen each other, except to exchange short greetings in passing. She was always busy with her medical training, and he was off doing who-knew-what.

"Oh?" Kakashi hummed. "I'm afraid I've been away on a mission. There was a cat stuck on the roof of a building in Suna, and the Kazekage was quite concerned, as it's a rare breed that's developed a fear of the local ninja. The Hokage sent me to help as part of the peace-keeping initiative, and…"

"You were not!" Sakura practically screeched. Secretly, she was almost relieved that he'd resorted to his usual transparent excuses; it was the most familiar interaction they'd had since Naruto's departure. Even when Kakashi had congratulated her on her promotion to chūnin, their conversation had seemed stilted without Naruto's artless but cheerful presence. Speaking of her absent teammate…

"Have you gotten any messages from Naruto?" she asked more calmly.

Kakashi shook his head, and at her troubled expression, ruffled her hair. "I'm sure everything's fine. He's with Jiraiya, after all."

Sakura nodded, just then noticing the brown paper bag he'd supported with his elbow in order to pat her head. "Oh – were you buying groceries?"

Kakashi's eye creased in another smile. "You always were the most perceptive of my students, Sakura."

Deciding to take this as a compliment, Sakura grinned. "Tsunade-shishou always says that a medic has to be able to discern a patient's ailment with a single glance." Inspecting the paper bag more closely – noticing it's relative emptiness and the creases around a small, rectangular shape – her voice entered lecture-mode. "And I know you were buying one of Jaraiya-sama's dirty books. You're such a pervert, Kakashi-sensei."

Kakashi held a hand palm-up in an almost sheepish manner, as if to say, "Well, you caught me."

"So you're training with Tsunade-sama is still going well?" This came out so perfunctory-sounding – like the type of question an acquaintance asked while inwardly thinking of ways to extricate themself from the conversation – that Sakura had to resist rolling her eyes.

Nodding, she consciously skirted around that morning's poor performance. "She's taught me so much. A lot of it is medical jutsu, of course, but right now we're focusing more on taijutsu," she said with a bit of smugness. She was proud of her skills.

"Like what?"

Sakura tensed her biceps, felt the flow of chakra through her veins. She could decimate a building, crush a man's skull, and create a near-earthquake with a single punch, all while dodging an opponent's attacks. The idea of displaying her new skills immediately was tempting, but she wanted to wait until the revelation of her super-strength would have the most impact.

"I don't want to give away the surprise."

Kakashi quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

"You'll see when Naruto gets back," she explained, already imagining the look on both of her teammates' faces when they realized how physically strong she'd become.

They continued to chatter about nonsense for a few minutes, until Kakashi mentioned the necessity of going home to water Mr. Ukki. Sakura waved goodbye, the sun glaring in her eyes so that she couldn't see if he waved back.

Despite Kakashi's reassurances that Naruto was fine, the exchange left her feeling unsettled. She spent enough time around team 10 to know that Asuma often joined his students for casual dinners and meetings outside of training. Immersed as Sakura was in the learning of arcane medical jutsu and chakra control techniques, she missed having a team to just hang out with. Ino's team was nice, but Sakura couldn't help feeling like an interloper when they traded inside jokes and discussed mission formations.

"Kakashi-sensei," she called before she could think better of doing so.

"Hm?" Kakashi half-turned around, his attention still on the pages of his dirty orange book.

"We're still a team, right?" The words 'all four of us' were on the tip of her tongue, but she held them back.

"Of course. Never doubt it, Sakura." Kakashi kept his eyes glued to the sordid pages of Jariya's book as he spoke, somewhat ruining the impact of his words. "Things may seem tough right now, but it's important to stay loyal to the people you care about."

It was a more thoughtful response than Sakura had been expecting – Kakashi usually reserved his tidbits of serious wisdom and advice for Sasuke – and she felt her nostalgia from that morning reassert itself.

She missed her boys. Which prompted her to ask, "Will you come to dinner with me tonight?"

"I don't think it would be appropriate for us to go on a date, Sakura," Kakashi said mildly, only briefly glancing up from his porno.

"Not like _that_," Sakura said with feeling. "I'm serious. Asuma-sensei is taking his team out to Yakiniku Q tonight after training. Ino asked me to go, and you should come too."

She'd actually been planning on not attending due to the unprecedented awkwardness between her and a certain slacker genius, but Kakashi and Asuma were sort of friends, so she figured that might convince her teacher to come. She could see Kakashi thinking about it, could almost envision his brain concocting an outlandish excuse with which to refuse her invitation.

"No excuses," Sakura said firmly. Then, more beseechingly: "C'mon, Kakashi-sensei. Just this once."

Perhaps sensing that she was going to be stubborn about this, Kakashi acquiesced without her having to force his compliance. The interchange recharged Sakura's smile, and she was suddenly appreciative of the warm, sun-filled weather.

* * *

"Where's Shikamaru?"

Sakura thought she'd feigned nonchalance pretty well, but Ino was drawn to gossip like a shark to blood; the blonde's blue gaze sharpened as she regarded Sakura, a small smile playing on her lips. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

To the surprise of Sakura's guilt-ridden conscience, Ino seemed to accept this answer at face-value. "You guys were pretty out of it last night. I'd ask if anything fun happened, but you two are possibly the nerdiest people I know, so that's doubtful."

Sakura laughed, trying not to sound as if she was choking. She covered her sheepishness by washing her hands for the second time.

Ino regarded her reflection in the mirror, fluffing out her ponytail. "Anyway, I think he's meeting with Temari or something."

Sakura felt a flush of emotion that she refused to identify as jealousy. She was tempted to ask more questions about Shikamaru's rendezvous with Gaara's sister, but she didn't want to further pique Ino's suspicions that anything had happened last night.

"More importantly," Sakura said, segueing into Ino's favourite subject: herself. "How did things go with Chōji?"

Ino glanced around the bathroom, checking that they were alone. Satisfied that there were no lurkers listening in on their conversation, she said, "Kind of lame. Chōji's nice, but he didn't stop eating the whole night. I've decided to try dating civilians for a while, see how that goes."

Finished with the requisite exchange of bathroom-gossip, the girls returned to their seats. Kakashi, Asuma, and Chōji sat in a companionable silence that was punctuated by the sounds of Chōji's voracious chewing. Kakashi had shown up almost an hour after the appointed time, and the absence of Sasuke's sullenness and Naruto's hyper exuberance was noticeable. Nevertheless, Sakura found herself genuinely enjoying the reunion of sorts. It was almost a relief that Shikamaru was elsewhere, despite the brief almost-disappointment she'd felt upon walking into Yakiniku Q.

Ino left early, explaining that she had an early-morning shift at the flower shop the next day. Chōji, well-stuffed, meandered home soon after. Sakura secretly suspected that both of them were planning to leave Asuma-sensei with the bill. Following their good example, she also said her goodbyes. She'd almost left the restaurant before realizing she'd left her wallet in the bathroom. She snuck back in to retrieve it, wary of seeing the two team leaders in case they decided that one of the chūnins should contribute to paying the bill.

Initially, Sakura had been mildly annoyed that they'd been seated near the bathrooms; everyone knew that was the worst seat. After fetching her wallet, she happened to glance over at Kakashi and Asuma, and something about the tableau they created caught at her memory.

Facing away from Sakura's direction, they were doing the guy thing where both of them sort of lounged there, not looking at each other or seeming to interact much, and yet there were undertones of a serious subject being discussed. Sakura had seen Naruto and Sasuke behave similarly, though she'd always attributed that to their immaturity – or, more accurately, Naruto's immaturity and Sasuke-kun's aloofness. Kakashi-sensei was pretty awesome sometimes, but in her eyes he'd never quite superceded her first image of him: an oblivious should-never-have-been-promoted-to-jōnin idiot falling for Naruto's dumb prank.

"I haven't seen you this down in a while," Asuma commented quietly, emphasizing every second word with a puff of his cigarette.

Kakashi ran a hand over his masked chin. "I haven't visited their monuments in a while."

Sakura leaned closer, curious about the mysterious monuments to which Kakashi was referring.

"Your old teammates?"

Kakashi's head dipped in acknowledgement.

Sakura sucked in a sharp breath, struck by a realization. She'd only been in Kakashi's crappy-but-clean apartment a couple times – mostly when he was excessively late for a team meeting – but those few instances had almost felt sacrilegious; it was the room where he slept, after all, where he presumably kept his most private possessions. She'd mentally catalogued every personal item, including the framed pictures of two genin teams: the team 7 photo identical to the one on Sakura's own dresser and another that appeared to feature a young-looking Kakashi with the fourth Hokage and two others who were presumably his former teammates.

At the time, Sakura and Naruto had been distracted and depressed by the fact that even a teenaged Kakashi had worn a mask. Boring. Their eventual curiosity about the identities and fates of his teammates had been met with ambiguous statements that really told them nothing, adding to the enigma that was their sensei.

"You should go," Asuma suggested in a gentler tone than Sakura had ever heard him use. "It'll be good for you. Cathartic."

Kakashi mumbled something too quietly for Sakura to hear, despite her craning neck.

Asuma guffawed, easing the tense atmosphere. "I don't think I've ever seen you this drunk."

This, Sakura found even more intriguing. She hadn't even noticed Kakashi-sensei drinking. Sure, the jōnins had shared a bottle of sake that was semi-frequently refilled, but neither of them had seemed to indulge to a noticeable extent.

Kakashi-sensei certainly didn't look at all inebriated: his hands were steady and his back straight. Maybe his visible eye was a little extra droopy, but it was hard to discern anything else with that mask and his hitai-ate. Nonetheless, Sakura wanted to take in every detail of a purportedly drunk Kakashi so she could report everything to Naruto; part of this was that she missed his pranks. Even though she'd always viewed them as silly and childish – which they were – she'd always secretly wanted to join in.

Kakashi tilted his head, his mess of spiky silver hair fluffing to the side. "Am I? I hadn't noticed."

Sakura grinned wickedly, an idea forming in her mind. The face beneath Kakashi's mask had been a constant source of intrigue for the young members of team 7 – Naruto and Sakura, in particular. Even at dinners like these, he either managed to eat while their gazes were averted or claimed not to be hungry. Their many attempts to view their sensei's face had met with constant failure, but they'd never had the opportunity to attempt an unmasking while Kakashi was intoxicated. It was a pity Naruto wasn't here to conspire with her, but Sakura resolved to make this a solo mission.

With a small burst of chakra and a rapid flurry of hand seals, she performed a relatively simple _henge no jutsu_. Her hair became chestnut-brown, a common shade that Sakura, with her salmon-pink tresses, had always sort of envied. She made her eyes a plain brown and ensured that her features were simple but pretty. Her body lengthened, taller and curvier, so that her cleavage threatened to spill over the neckline of the pale green dress she decided on.

It would do.

While he sometimes indulged Naruto's childish pranks, there was no way Kakashi would fall for such a see-through technique under normal circumstances. Sakura straightened her spine, pushed out her breasts, and hoped with giddy anticipation that Hatake Kakashi was as thoroughly sloshed as Asuma had suggested.

She waited until Asuma-sensei was busy with the bill to make her move. She approached Kakashi's side, adding what she hoped was a provocative sway to her hips.

"Hi there, sorry to interrupt. I'm a waitress here at Yakiniku Q. Could you come with me for a second?" she asked, attempting to flutter her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Kakashi half-stood. "Is there a problem?"

Unable to come up with some seductive reply to that, Sakura simply said, "No, no, I'm just a big fan of the infamous copy-ninja. It would be hard to mistake that hair."

This apparently had the enticing affect Sakura had been going for, because Kakashi rose to follow her with a murmur of farewell to Asuma, who was regarding the bill with a look of resigned horror. Sakura led his unresisting form past the bathrooms, through one of the doors marked 'employees only.' She'd scoped out this area earlier, so wasn't surprised when they entered an unlit corridor filled with racks of food and storage boxes.

"Oops," Sakura said with an over-innocent giggle, flicking on the light. "I didn't mean to come in here."

"Where did you mean to go?"

This was the point at which Sakura had planned to surprise Kakashi with an attempt to remove his mask, as if overcome with passion. This had seemed like a good idea during the planning phase, but it seemed a bit silly now. Besides, Kakashi still didn't seem drunk at all. His words were clear and distinct, his single-eyed gaze lucid. He regarded her with mild curiosity and no hint of lechery. It was disappointing. Not that Sakura had expected the famed copy-ninja to be a sloppy drunk, but would it kill him to slur his words a little? Feeling disheartened by his obvious composure, she prepared an excuse that would allow her to leave with her dignity and anonymity intact.

And then he was kissing her.

Sakura sputtered at first, taken by surprise. Her first instinct was to punch him in the face, but she had enough presence of mind to toss her arm around his neck instead. That was what experienced woman did in these situations, right? She didn't really know; this was, after all, her first sober kiss.

It had happened so fast that she hadn't even seen him lower his mask. Kakashi's hand on her back ran along the length of her spine, making Sakura arch unintentionally into his touch. His tongue slipping into her mouth had a dizzying effect, and she clutched at his shoulders for balance. There was little doubt that, inebriated or not, Kakashi knew how to kiss. Every movement – from the smallest caress of his fingers to the boldest grope – sent skitters of unexpected desire over her body. It would be so easy to let herself fall into the feeling – except, Sakura had to remind herself, that this was Kakashi-sensei, and the thought of kissing her teacher was all kinds of gross.

Intellectually, this all made sense, but her _henge_-enhanced body disagreed. A moan slipped out as she was hefted onto a wooden box near the wall, Kakashi's body invading the space between her thighs. Sakura's shoulder inadvertently jostled against the light switch, casting the room into darkness. Foggy with sensation, she almost forgot about her main imperative: _seeing_ what was under that mask.

Damn. She couldn't see anything in the shadow-lit corridor. From what she could feel, she was at least certain that Kakashi's lips were nothing like a fish's. Quite the opposite. Soft and supple, they moved against her own with a grace she wouldn't have thought him capable of except that she'd seen him fight.

"Ayame," Kakashi whispered as they parted for air, his hot, sake-stained breath searing her ear.

_Huh? _Sakura gathered her scattered wits together; who was Ayame? And did it matter? This had gone on long enough. She pushed Kakashi's questing hands away with the lightest of shoves. It didn't take much; Kakashi stepped back from her with a look of mild confusion scrunching his visible eyebrow. It was too dark to discern anything else apart from a dim outline of his face.

Kakashi's eye blinked at her. Once. Twice. Quietly and almost gentlemanly, he leaned to the side and threw up. This was so reminiscent of her actions last night that Sakura almost felt sick herself. Kakashi straightened into a slouch, hand wiping across his face and pulling his mask up over his chin and nose.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "I'm not feeling very well."

He promptly vanished in a puff of smoke. Sakura was too dazed to react for a moment, simply sitting there until the faint tang of vomit reminded her of her surroundings. She could barely process what had happened, but she was level-headed enough to stumble out of the restaurant.

Her body felt tingly and warm with promise. She could still feel Kakashi's kiss on her lips, and as much as that should have grossed her out, the illicitness of it made her feel daring. The evening air felt wonderful, a cool caress on her warm skin.

She fully intended to walk home. It just didn't work out that way. Her feet carried her past her house, seeming confidant in the path they travelled.

_This is silly_, she reasoned to herself. _He's probably not even home._

He was.

Somewhat disbelieving that she was actually initiating this, Sakura found herself at a loss for words. Why had she come here again?

After a few stuttering seconds, all she could think to say was, "Can I come in?"

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! I found this story languishing away on my computer and decided to edit/continue it (2 years later...). Better late than never though, right? I love reviews, so feel free to share any comments/thoughts. :)_


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